


Will (MC)U Be Mine?

by mrstater, vladnyrki



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Daredevil (TV), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Jessica Jones (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Drabbles, F/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 11:08:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6003520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrstater/pseuds/mrstater, https://archiveofourown.org/users/vladnyrki/pseuds/vladnyrki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fourteen drabbles and fourteen relationships for the Fourteenth of February...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Will (MC)U Be Mine?

**Author's Note:**

> We wanted to have a little Valentine fun with the Marvel gang, but we couldn't decide on a pairing or theme so we thought, why not show all our favorites some love? Full blame for the dorky title goes to Scott Lang, the biggest little dork in the MCU. ;) Happy Valentine's Day, Marvel fandom!

**Will (MC)U Be Mine?**

**Sunday, February 14th, 2016**

_3am - Hokkaido - Madama Butterfly_

Winter in Hokkaido was chilly. Wordlessly, Vanessa adjusted her scarf and hat, bracing herself against the cold wind on the deserted dock in Hakodate. In the distance, a ship manoeuvred without lights. Inside this ship, Wilson was about to conclude his long journey to freedom, from the depths of his New York prison. How many people had she bribed and threatened in the last few months? Prison guards modified health reports which led Wilson to a hospital. There, a newfound ally with deep pockets and an even deeper network provided them with anonymous transportation to the west coast, then on to the other side of the world.

Gideon Malick was a good friend, indeed.

Another gust of wind froze her to the bone, but she barely registered the cold. In the car, Audrey Nathan's latest album resounded. Unlike her previous recording, the melancholy was deep in her music-this particular arrangement of _Un bel di vedremo_ brought tears to her eyes every time she listened to it. She didn't know the musician, but she felt deep down that they shared the same suffering. And she knew how much Wilson enjoyed the cellist's art. Maybe they could go to Sapporo next month; Miss Nathan's Japanese tour was about to begin in Tokyo. Such a surprise would please Wilson, after so many months in his cell.

But soon, this would be all forgotten.

She checked her watch and smiled, in spite of the biting wind.

Soon, they would be reunited.

* * *

 

_4am - Tokyo - Lost in Translation_

Coulson looked at the bar clock tiredly.

Only five minutes had gone by since he last checked.

Good God, he hated time zones and jet-lag. Hopefully, this latest lead about Malick's ties with the military lobby in Japan would give him enough leverage to unroot Hydra from any government for good.

However, in order to follow this lead, he needed a clear mind. And this damn insomnia for the second night in a row did anything but clear his head. For the twentieth time in less than half an hour, he checked his cell phone, hoping for any news, from Mike Peterson in New York, from Bobbi and Hunter in Hokkaido, from Maria Hill, anybody. His mind was running in circles and and it was driving him crazy.

He took his glass back, only to notice there were only ice cubes left. How many whiskeys had he drunk tonight?

His phone buzzed.

_Still freezing our arses off in damn Hakodate, middle of nowhere, North of the Wall. Nothing to report. Thank you for this memorable Valentine's Day, mate._

Coulson had to snort at the spiteful message. He really hoped that this lead in Hokkaido wasn't a bust, or else Hunter would be a pain in his ass for months. With a half-smile, he replied the couple to keep their eyes open. Something was coming from the US tonight, he knew it. When he put his phone back in his pocket, he noticed another glass of whiskey in front of him.

One he was sure he hadn't ordered.

At once, he felt his body tense, his right hand reaching instinctively inside his jacket, until the bartender pointed at the single woman by the window.

Her sad smile didn't reach her bloodshot, sleep deprived eyes.

_Audrey._

Like an automaton, his limbs moved on their own towards her table, bile raised in his constricted throat.

"Hey stranger," she whispered in a strangled voice. "Remember that movie with Scarlett Johansson and Bill Murray?"

* * *

 

_5am - Washington, DC - Unchained Melody_

Someone was on the front porch.

Melinda May's eyes snapped open-not that she'd been asleep, even at 5AM on a Sunday morning, during a leave of absence for some much-needed R&R from Coulson's relentless vendetta against the last known Hydra heads. She was out of bed in an instant, grabbing her sidearm from the nightstand, checking the safety was off. Could be the newspaper, she thought as she crept down the hall. She'd canceled it after Andrew moved out-again-but they still delivered it sometimes, on holidays, or in the hope that the Sunday coupon section would draw subscribers back to the dwindling print media market.

Before she unbolted the door she arched up on her toes to look out the peephole. No one stood on the mat, though there was something lying on it. For a moment she considered leaving it-today was a holiday, she thought, distantly, and not one she particularly wanted to acknowledge-but she was a spy, after all, and curiosity got the better of her.

Not the Sunday paper.

Flowers.

A cheap supermarket bouquet, wrapped in green plastic with a scalloped edge in a feeble attempt at looking fancy. Clashing pink and red button carnations, which took her back to a shitty one-room apartment, where a five-dollar heart-shaped pizza eaten by candlelight had been a romantic splurge… and, of course, dancing to the _Ghost_ soundtrack.

Andrew remembered, too. He was in there, somewhere, fighting the monster who tried to consume him.

She set the safety on her gun, stooped to pick up the bouquet.

She would keep fighting, too.

* * *

 

_8am - SHIELD Headquarters, somewhere in the USA - Pinterest Perfect_

The scents of bacon and butter filled Jemma's nostrils, pulling her from sleep. "Fitz…" she murmured into her pillow. "Are you bringing me breakfast in bed?"

"Maybe," came his soft Glasgowegian lilt, such a lovely sound to wake up to. "It is Valentine's Day."

The lamp on her bedside table flicked on, and she lay for another moment with her eyes shut to let them adjust somewhat to the light before she opened them. It was still a little too bright after the pitch-black of the windowless underground quarters, but a smile stretched across her face at the sight of Fitz and contents the breakfast tray.

"Oh, you've scrounged up a proper English!" she cried, sitting up.

"You were supposed to comment on the heart-shaped bacon and egg-in-a-basket."

On second look, she noticed he had painstakingly twisted the bacon strips into hearts and cooked them to crisp pink perfection, and cut a heart shape into the toast to fry the egg in. He'd even made little jam hearts in the corners of the toast.

"Fitz," she said, leaning in to inspect the tray more closely, "did you carve tomatoes into roses?"

"The leaves are basil," he replied, looking pleased. "I couldn't think of anything Valentiney to do with the beans, though.

"Nothing about baked beans on Pinterest?"

A flush spread across Fitz's cheeks, and Jemma thought it was perfectly on-theme.

* * *

 

_10am - San Francisco - Pinterest Fails_

It had been a long time since laughter drifted through this old house. Hope followed the sound to the kitchen, drawn as much by it as by her need for caffeine.

"Mmm," she said, coming around the corner. "Smells like burned bacon."

"That's because we did burn bacon!" Cassie chirped, never disappointed about anything. She hopped down from the chair she'd been standing on to reach the counter and grabbed Hope's hand. "Come see!"

She tugged Hope to the counter, where Scott, shoulders still quivering with amusement, stepped aside to give her a clear view of their handiwork. _Of course_ he was wearing a Kiss the Cook apron.

"You were trying to do heart-shaped bacon strips, weren't you?" Hope said, taking one look at the misshapen blobs of somehow simultaneously greasy and shriveled up bacon. "I saw this on Pinterest Fails."

"So did we!" Scott announced, laughing. "Along with these truffles!"

He presented a tray of horrifically melted chocolate.

"They look like poop!" Cassie said, and she and her father exploded with laughter again.

Hope watched them for a moment, reflecting how Scott had told her they didn't _have_ to take Cassie for the weekend so Maggie and Paxton could have a romantic weekend getaway, that they could have had a romantic weekend of their own if she'd prefer. She'd replied that of course they had to; Scott hadn't spent Valentine's Day with his little girl in years.

"I've always said Valentine's Day is a crappy holiday," she said, grabbing the straps of Scott's apron to pull him in for a kiss that was more giggling against each other's lips.

She wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

 

_11am - Malibu - Sabrina_

"Listen, I don't care about your hurt feelings. You've made a mistake, and I want you to make up for it."

Even though he wasn't the object of Pepper's wrath, Tony almost felt like a school boy, playing with the envelope he held behind his back. Whoever the idiot was, they had the worst timing.

"Oh? You had plans? Too bad. Me too, yet I spent all morning dealing with your mess."

Tony snorted in agreement. Pepper had woken up at an ungodly hour and worked almost non-stop until now.

"Don't care. Do it."

And she hung up. At long last.

Tentatively, Tony walked behind her, the gift back in his pocket, and wrapped his arms around her.

"So, can we celebrate now?" he whispered in her ear.

_Mr. Stark. Nick Fury's on the line for you._

Friday's voice resounded in the renovated Malibu residence, causing them to sigh heavily. Pepper tensed slightly in his arms. Without a word, Tony disconnected the bothersome AI.

"See?" he whispered again against Pepper's ear. "I'm very serious about this retirement gig. Even if it's very inconvenient for them… After all, they do need at least four people to replace me. Rhodey and his suit, Dr. Foster, Dr. Selvig, and Dr. Cho's brains… And they're still a far cry from my charisma. But, I'm being strong."

Pepper's quiet laugh was music to his ears. He revealed the envelope, waiting for Pepper to discover the picture in it.

"And you need a vacation. Can you imagine it? Paris, no AI, phones in the suitcases for a couple of weeks, pastries at sidewalk cafes and lazy strolls along the river."

Pepper turned around in his arms, all smiles and mischief in her eyes, and touched her lips to his, light as a feather.

"You used to be the David to my Linus… and now you're the perfect Sabrina, saving me from a life of overwork," she whispered between kisses. "I do like your retirement gig. I really do."

* * *

 

_3pm - Glasgow - Downton Abbey_

Jane barely listened to the ramblings of the man walking beside her. She should, since he was dean of the university which had spent a not moderate amount to invite her for a conference series.

"We are so honored that you accepted our invitation, Dr. Foster." The man's speech pattern bordered on ridiculously precious-Lord Whosits straight out of _Downton Abbey_. "Our students and our researchers have been so eagerly looking forward your conference tomorrow for weeks now."

She only nodded in reply. Her distraction was so impolite, she knew it, bordering on disrespectful.

"Your most recent work on space travel is downright revolutionary. A new Copernicus, truly!"

She had to bite her tongue, resisting the urge to launch into a rant about the very feeble nature of her theory for now. It still needed a lot of work and experimentation… and funding. Not that she lacked that with Stark backing her through the Avengers.

But still. No amount of funding would help her without the equipment she hadn't even begun to think about, much even less invent.

Fortunately, their steps were leading them toward the Botanical Garden. Good, there was a strange climatic occurrence that she wanted to explore more than space travel theories.

Storms in February weren't a common thing in Scotland. And lightnings even less.

Around them, lovers enjoyed the welcome warmth of the glasshouse, strolling hand in hand between banana trees and other tropical plants. Jane resisted a frown. Spending Valentine's Day walking around Glasgow in the company of a rather old, albeit elegant, dean of sciences wasn't her ideal form of celebration.

Then she had to bite her lips, her frown morphing into a tiny, restrained smile, when she noticed the giant blond hiding with a dorky grin behind a bush of orchids.

Straight out of another British romantic comedy.

* * *

 

_4pm - Somewhere in the Midwest - What's Up, Doc?_

"Bad news," said Laura from the doorway of the craft room, cell phone in hand.

"Besides the fact that that the newly refinished hard wood's covered in glitter?" Clint replied from the kid-sized table where he'd been ill-advisedly left to supervise Lila's overzealous production of Love Bugs. He would have preferred to be chilling on the couch with Cooper, watching Bugs Bunny cartoons.

When he'd asked what bugs had to do with Valentine's Day, she'd replied matter-of-factly that everyone loved bugs. He thought she might have been inspired by Ant-Man and of course Auntie Nat, even though spiders technically weren't bugs, but the fussy teething baby he was jiggling on his knee served as a reminder that he really hadn't been getting enough sleep to make any sense of the answers Lila gave him, so it was just better not to ask.

"Babysitter's sick," Laura replied, with as grim a face as if she were announcing that Fury had called about another alien invasion.

"Nonono..." Clint got up, a shower of glitter falling off his pants and the baby even though they hadn't been participating in the craft project. "What kind of sick? Like a cold? Because I can handle snotty kids for a week if it means we get our night out."

They'd booked a hotel room. Just for a few hours, which looked kinda trashy, but really they only had intentions of taking a bubble bath and a nap. Maybe drinking a bottle of champagne, if they felt really wild and crazy.

"Appendicitis."

"Oh, so major surgery. Valid excuse." Leaning in to kiss Laura's cheek, he handed off Nate. "Lucky for you, you're married to an Avenger. Last-minute Valentine sitter? No problem."

"I don't think you should bother Natasha," Laura said as he scrolled through the contacts in his phone. "There's nothing worse than being depressed about a guy and being asked to babysit on Valentine's Day."

For a moment he hesitated over Wanda's name, but he dialed her anyway.

"Hey, Wanda? You got Valentine's Day plans? Only we need a sitter. We can pay you in glitter… and don't worry, we have all the _Looney Tunes_ on blu-ray. Easy gig."

* * *

 

_5pm - Upstate New York - The Sound of Music_

"You do realize you're basically asking the unwillingly single girl to babysit on Valentine's Day, right?" Natasha said.

Once upon a time, Rogers would've had the grace to look at least a little bit sheepish at that, but he was too comfortable with her now. It was a compliment, she guessed.

"Hey, I offered to make it a double date."

She made the same face she had the first time he suggested her tagging along with him and Sharon.

"You turn that down," he went on, "you get stuck here making sure Wilson doesn't get up to any rooftop shenanigans while I'm in the city."

"What if I make popcorn and watch Wilson's rooftop shenanigans?"

"I'd prefer that to you nursing a vodka and watching _The Sound of Music_ on the old movie channel."

Damn. How had he known that was exactly what she'd had planned? She was getting predictable, which wouldn't do at all.

"Don't you want to come back and see Sam modeling a new Falcon uniform made from the drapes?" she said. "You're really do have a zero tolerance policy for moping, don't you?"

"More like a zero tolerance policy for guys who don't have the decency at least to send you a card."

The muscle flickered beneath his cheekbone, and despite a twinge at the negative reference to Bruce, Natasha impulsively arched up on her toes to give him a quick kiss.

"Clint's already claimed the role of protective big brother," she said, "but I appreciate the sentiment."

She wiped the lip gloss off, pleased to see a little pink lingering on his skin that wasn't due to makeup transfer as she stepped back.

"Then again, maybe that's why I don't want to double date with you."

"Not sure I buy that when you've invested so much time and energy into getting me a date," Steve said, slipping his arm into the sleeve of his suit jacket. "I'll hold it to you when you inevitably ask for all the details."

"Why Steve!" She arched her eyebrows in her best approximation of a scandalized expression. "How far are you planning on getting on your first date?"

His hands slipped into his trouser pockets in something like that old sheepish look, but the grin he flashed her was anything but. "I'm not the one who watches all those movies from the good old days."

* * *

 

_6pm - SHIELD Headquarters, somewhere in the USA - Marvel's Lego Avengers_

Lincoln looked like a sad puppy, and his pitiful pout made Daisy grin as she installed the brand new PS4-the old one met a sad, melting fate when Mack and Joey got a little bit too competitive while playing NBA 2K15. For a second, she was tempted to perjure herself and forget her decades old disdain for anything having to do with Valentines. Back in the days, Miles had learned the hard way not to come near her with anything resembling a gift or flowers on that fateful day. She snorted at the memory. For all his political activism and endless rants about the horrors of capitalism and globalization, Miles couldn't resist his romantic tendencies, until she put her foot down.

Now, she was older, hopefully wiser, and she could feel the longing for a nice dinner and candlelights and fluffy gifts. Earlier today, she was surprised by her own lack of ironic come back when she saw Fitz prepare a disgustingly romantic breakfast in the common kitchen… as if anything with beans in it could be considered as romantic.

" _Lego Avengers_ , really?" The incredulity in Mack's voice was unmistakable. He was more a _Call of Duty_ kind of guy.

"Is that a thing?" Joey collapsed on the couch a second only after Mack. Curiously enough, those two were always seconds from each other lately. Or maybe Daisy should get rid of her newfound rose-colored glasses.

The blond Inhuman seemed to be changing her perspective on life far too much.

"Yup," she commented as she joined her gang on the couch, distributing the controllers. "And, believe it or not, Coulson's in it."

"The boss man is a videogame character?" Mack's grin was full of glee and mischief.

She settled next to Lincoln, closer than was really necessary to play a videogame designed for children.

"That's what I want to see with my own eyes."

And the anti-Valentine team celebration began. Or was it a double date? Daisy shook her head and focused on the game, deciding she definitely should stop listening to the walking rumor-mill that was Hunter.

* * *

 

_7pm - Manhattan - Indiana Jones_

" _Alien_?"

Trish shook her head, negatively. "We already binged the whole series four years ago. Remember, when we were geeking out for _Prometheus_?"

Jess' frown was more than eloquent.

"Do you need to remind me that I lost two hours of my life I'll never get back?"

"Just saying…" Trish grinned as she sipped her mojito.

Cocktails, horror movies or action flicks and girls' night for Valentine's Day, a decade old tradition that she would never get tired of.

Jess kept on going through the collection of blu-rays, stopping on a title, then forging on with her exploration, until her grin got wider.

"I know! _Indiana Jones_ … I've been on an Harrison Ford kick since last Christmas, and we already marathoned all the _Star Wars_."

Trish handed another mojito to her friend.

"Now that's an idea. Even the fourth?"

"Of course, it's for Harrison, not the quality." Jess quipped, raising her glass in a mock toast. "And we'll be less critical about scripts and narratives in a few hours." She put the first blu-ray on and jumped on the couch _con gusto_.

"True." Trish claimed her favorite armchair and curled up with her drink. "Any news about Luke?"

"Nope." On the screen, Indiana Jones appeared in the middle of the jungle, all charm and wits. "Any news about Simpson?"

"Nope."

"Idiots."

"Yup."

* * *

 

_10pm - Brooklyn - Forever Young_

"They say you're never supposed to go on a first date on Valentine's Day," Sharon murmured in between kisses.

"Is that right?" Steve ran his hand through the long waves of her hair, pushing the curls back from her face as he leaned in to press his lips to hers again. "In movies? In magazines?"

He'd been trying to catch up, but there was still so much. At least time was on his side, contrary to that Mel Gibson's movie which hit a little too close to home for his taste

"Something about too much pressure to perform, but I don't know..." The thought suspended for a moment as she sighed into his mouth, fingers hooking over the knot of his tie, loosening it. "So far I'm a pretty big fan."

"So far?"

"Mmm-hmm. I mean, it's still Valentine's Day for a few more hours, right?"

His reply was indistinct, Adam's apple bobbing against the tips of her fingers as she unfastened the button at his collar. He let the hand on her hip drift upward, just skimming the edge of a curve as the other hand left her hair to push off the jacket he'd draped over her shoulders during their chilly walk to her apartment.

"They also say you're never supposed to put out on a first date," he said, drawing back slightly to look into her eyes, "but I was kind of hoping you invited me in for that reason."

"I was hoping you hoped that," she said, and after that there was no more _in between_ kisses.

* * *

 

_11pm - Hell's Kitchen - House MD_

Claire rubbed her eyes. The end of her shift was near, another hour, but it felt as if her limbs already refused her brain's order to do what they were told. Walk to the nearby gurney. Pick up the chart. Start to treat a bullet wound or…

What. The. Fuck?

She didn't know if she should cry or laugh as she read through the EMT's account of the situation. Why did some people want to experiment so badly in bed on Valentine's Day? With a deep sigh, she reached for a pair of latex gloves, suddenly feeling like an extra in this Hugh Laurie's old show, and very happy to be single on this idiotic day.

Boy, comparing herself to the irascible and misanthropic practician was a sign she needed some sleep now, and some quiet in her life.

To be honest, a scale from 1 to 10, extracting strange objects from orifices where they didn't belong was a mere 2, compared to treating a blind ninja vigilante's deadly wounds, or plunging a syringe into a guy's eye to relieve intracranial pressure because said guy's skin was unbreakable… or discovering that an ex had become some kind of a cyborg when you walked into him in the middle of the night in Hell's Kitchen. Mike had become the hero he always wanted to be, and he had paid a high price. The guy he worked for wanted to know what the hell had happened in the neighborhood these past few months, between Fisk and the mind-controlling maniac.

Of course, she had kept her mouth shut.

The object was extracted, her gloves thrown away. She glanced at the clock once more. Twenty minutes to go.

Then she'd go back home and treat herself to a hot bubble bath, even a glass of wine.

Ten minutes.

And all hell broke loose in the ER when the EMTs brought a dozen thugs beaten to a crying pulp.

On the one hand, it was nice to see that Matt was alive and literally kicking. On the other, if this was his notion of a Valentine gift, this was not funny.

At all.

* * *

 

_Sometime - Somewhere in outer space - Will You Be My Valentine?_

Terran time was hard to keep track of when you were constantly traveling across solar systems, even galaxies, but Peter was pretty sure it was Valentine's Day. Or close to Valentine's Day. Or maybe it wasn't Valentine's Day or even close to it at all, but who the hell cared? Gamora didn't know the difference. Even though the whole point of this was that he wanted her to know something about Terran romantic traditions. Courtship rituals, she'd call them.

"This is for you," he said, handing her a red envelope when they were alone together in the galley.

Her brow wrinkled as she looked at it, read his writing on the front:

_To: Gamora_

_From: Star Lord_

She looked back up at him, clearly not understanding. "You wrote me a letter?"

"Open it," he urged her.

Muttering about how she didn't understand why he would write her a letter when he could just say what he wanted her to know, she did anyway.

"What is this?" she asked dubiously, drawing out the red paper heart he'd made for her.

It had been surprisingly difficult to find anything remotely like red construction paper, and Peter was pleased with himself for persevering until he did. If only he'd been able to find some glitter or those white doily looking things. Or Cupid stickers.

"It's a Valentine card."

"A Valentine card?"

"Valentine's Day's a holiday we have on Terra. To tell people how we l…" Peter hesitated, cheeks growing warm at what he'd almost said. _Love_. "…feel about them. We make heart-shaped cards."

Gamora looked down at the card again. "Is this what human hearts look like?"

"No, not that kind of heart…"

"And why is there an arrow drawn through it? _Will you be my Valentine?_ What does that mean?"

Peter huffed out a long breath, pulled the confusing card from Gamora's hands and tossed it over his shoulder, and slipped his arms around her. "It means I just really love you, okay?"

Gamora smiled. "Okay."


End file.
